Sigh… So… this is a bittersweet post. 15 years ago I introduced a new little pup I named Pepé, right here on this blog. Growing up, I never had a dog. I had a cat for a little bit towards the end of high school, but my parents ended up giving it away to another family when I moved away for college. Consequently, I never experienced the full lifecycle of a pet. Having a dog as an adult (who had been living on his own for years,) totally changed my life. For the first time, I suddenly found myself having to take care of someone/thing else and dealing with something that wasn’t passive, like a fish. It was definitely a shock to the system, but this little furball turned out to be such a special little weirdo.
Over the past few years, his age started to creep up on him. He had an issue with his gallbladder and had to go on medication, but that didn’t really seem to stop him from being the Pepé. He was always pretty chill, he wasn’t a “yippy” dog, despite being half chihuahua. He only barked to warn us that someone was there, or if he wanted to go outside. He was a great office dog, and just hung out with me whenever, wherever. He was super smart. Sometimes a little too smart. He was also always cautiously curious. He wasn’t the most social, preferring to watch more from the sides.
He definitely had his own personality, and didn’t necessarily follow the usual “dog” conventions. He also was tolerant to let me dress him up in silly outfits and reluctantly modeled for several projects and campaigns I worked on.
He even recently made the cover of a decor book where my home was featured in!
But alas, over the past year he started to have more trouble getting up the stairs, jumping into the bed required some little stairs to help, and his walking pace started to slow down etc… Unfortunately his medical issues apparently came to a head this past weekend when he suddenly got very sick. It was a bit unexpected, since he seemed pretty normal overall, but looking back, what I thought was initially him just being “weird”, was probably more likely that he was uncomfortable or not feeling well. It sucks how they can’t tell us how they’re feeling.
We rushed him to the emergency, and long story short, an ultrasound revealed he had a host of things going wrong internally. There was possibility of surgery, but it would have been very intensive (and expensive yikes) and the recovery would be very long and hard. He would need to then be on constant watch and just wouldn’t be able to be “himself” ever again. Honestly, I just didn’t think I could put him through it. He was already 15 and I don’t know how much “extra” time it would have given him. Probably the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. Mentally I knew this day would come, but I guess you are never really prepared when it actually happens.
I am heartbroken. The house feels so weird now without his energy. But I’m also really grateful that he was in my life for so long. 15 years is a blessing, and I know he put a smile on everyone’s face that met him.
We can learn a lot from dogs. I know I have. Pepé would always stop and sniff a flower on his walk, or smell something on the concrete. Dogs live in the moment. It’s a good reminder that beautiful things worth “sniffing” are around you every day. Dogs also take a lot of naps. And that’s another good thing we could all probably do a bit more of.
Thank you for choosing me Pepé, and changing my life forever. I miss you and will never forget you.